VC,BC

Vancouver, more Sydney than San Diego, rises from the low-lying farmland around it like a distant apparition of a city in a children’s book. Boxy Bostonian architecture competes with chrome, Asian-influenced designs in a city that seems to have come of age overnight. And, like every Pacific Northwest city, it needs its own space needle.

Upon our friend’s recommendation, we found ourselves staying at a $20 CAN/night hostel/bar brawlroom/restaurant/general store, the Cambie Gastown. If you’re ever in Vancouver, and misbehave as well as Erich and I do, this is where you’ll stay. Admittedly exhausted from sleeping on a bare mattress in the “sex room” of a Seattle fratboyhouse, Friday night we unwisely took up residence at the entryway to the bar’s smoking room, figuring we’d have a pitcher and call it a night. But, as Erich pointed out, it quickly became a “Taxicab Confessions” affair, with every patron in the bar stopping by our strategically located table to, well, confess. Among the folks we met:

• not-yet-18 canada grrrls who’ve learned how to sneak into bars and flirt drinks away from the men who own them
  
• quite possibly the most attractive, electric-meter-reading single mom ever
  
• an honest couple from Alberta: she stayed home to study English and he moved here to make $$$ in security work this year
  
• a sweethearted, leather-jacket wearing, lesbian Meghan Toohey doppelganger, also from Alberta
  
• at least one date gone horribly awry
  
• and the dated woman’s brother hovering protectively over the entire encounter (while giving us advice on what to do today, Sunday)
  
• ponytailed, tattooed white trash brawlers who erupted in a fistfight 3 inches from my face and were literally dragged out of the bar by the waitstaff
  
• Megan and Stephanie from Seattle—who were also 19 (Everyone in Canada is so young!) One worked at a restaurant called It’s Greek to Me, and the other one’s dad played bass for Yes. A redfaced, sweating guy came up to sorority-dressed Stephanie during our conversation and said: “Yah sexy… yah beautiful… you should come home with me tonight” Then he left. Oh, to be an American teen north of the border.
  

I’m writing from a Mr. Quick Lube in North Vancouver, where we’re getting an oil change. Public wireless is really nifty, and I’ll post some pictures as soon as I have a chance to scale some good ones down.

P.S. Happy fourth, if you’re in America and celebrating.